Stress Relief
by tacosandflowers
Summary: Undercover work is stressful. What if Nick and Andy lost control one night? A smutty little one-shot, rated M for a reason.


_A/N: I really love Andy and Nick's storyline this season, and I wanted to play around with the idea of them getting a bit carried away while undercover. This is just a smutty one-shot I had to write because their chemistry on screen demanded it and I felt inspired. I still ultimately ship Andy and Sam but I think she could use some delicious Nick action before getting back to that. I don't own Rookie Blue but all mistakes and typos are mine. Rated M for a reason! Enjoy!_

* * *

It started one night when they were holed up inside their apartment four months into the undercover operation. They were bored. That's something nobody tells you about undercover work—the time when you're not playing the part of the people you're trying to be is extremely, _extremely_ boring.

Andy did crosswords and wrote in her notebooks. Nick read mystery novels he got for a quarter each at the thrift store.

Nick watched Andy bite her bottom lip while she considered a clue. Christ, she was pretty.

"Stumped?" he asked, and she looked up.

"Yeah," she said, closing the book of puzzles. "Do you think we're convincing?"

Nick put his book down on the coffee table. "What?"

"Us. Are we convincing? Do they buy us as a couple?"

He knew her moods by now, knew that she'd been stewing over this for a while if it was just now emerging as a verbal question.

"What makes you ask that?"

Andy sighed. "I don't know. We kiss each other in front of them, but it doesn't seem like…enough. I'm supposed to be some waitress who's head over heels for her new boyfriend who's going places in the drug world, but I feel about as sexy a middle school girl working up the nerve to kiss a boy at the dance."

Nick straightened on the couch and patted the seat next to him. He knew by now how to act when Andy wanted to talk.

She settled onto the couch next to him, all brown limbs and rippling chestnut hair. She smelled like the cucumber-melon lotion he knew she used. Sharing small spaces meant learning every little detail about one another.

"You don't think we're, uh, sexy enough?"

She rolled her eyes. "It sounds stupid when you put it like that. But I guess I just feel like we could be…more…ugh, sorry, now I'm embarrassed."

He reached an arm around her shoulders. "Hey, come on, don't be embarrassed. This is a weird situation we're in. We have to talk about this kind of stuff."

Her hair fell over her face and he reached out to tuck it behind her ear, his fingers grazing her cheek in a way they never had before. He turned her face so she was making eye contact with him.

"Look at me," he said.

She did. Her eyes shined with frustration. And then, before he could keep talking, her lips were on his, and it was nothing like the closed-mouth kisses they'd shared so far. There was a new energy present, one he had suspected could be there between them, but that was off limits in their game of pretend. At least it had been up to this point.

She tugged his bottom lip between hers and he let out an involuntary moan as his arms went around her, pulling her closer. His hands began to roam over her back as her arms snaked around his neck. By the time their tongues touched—he wasn't sure who had initiated that—her fingers delved into his hair and she brushed her breasts against his chest and holy shit, it felt better than he'd imagined it would.

He tasted her like he'd wanted to ever since they started this whole façade, and it was like finally biting into the forbidden fruit that had been dangling in front of him the entire time. Her flavor was a honeyed wine, ripe and juicy like he'd expected, and he wanted more.

He broke the kiss because he wanted to trail his lips to her neck, down to her collarbone, to taste that place at the juncture of her neck and her shoulders that was always displayed so enticingly by the skimpy clothes she wore for the operation. His lips reached a spot below her ear and he felt her shiver, his hand going for her thigh to guide her to his lap.

But suddenly she pulled away and his hands came up empty and there they were, staring at each other, breathing heavily.

"That, we need to be more like that," she said. "In front of people, I mean," she clarified.

He just nodded dumbly. "Ok."

She was getting up, pulling a sweatshirt she'd retrieved from the back of the couch over her head.

"I'm going to bed," she said.

Nick's heart continued to race as he watched her go. He was glad she had stopped things before he'd pulled her into his lap and she'd felt how hard he was from their little…experiment, was it? Test run?

He didn't fucking know. Add another layer of confusion to the already confusing dynamic that pretending to be lovers forced them to have.

* * *

It continued. Not the kissing in their apartment—that was a one-time deal. But the layer of desire they displayed for one another when they were playing their roles, it was there. It was heightened. She had been right, of course. They needed more of that to pull off the parts they were playing.

The guys noticed. "You must be getting so much action right now, bro," they ribbed him as she looked longingly at him across the pool deck from where she sat with another of the girlfriends.

"Eye-fucking" was the term she used when he asked her about it. The sound of that vulgar term coming from her lips sent a jolt of desire straight to his groin.

At nearly six months into the operation, they went to a party. Parties were part of the operation—drug dealers liked to enjoy themselves—and they'd been to several before. This one was at a house down the road from the usual lake house where they spent their time, though, and for some reason it felt different.

Andy wore a tight blue dress that hit mid-thigh and hugged every inch of her curves. Her hair was twisted back into a loose chignon and she wore heels that made her legs look endless. Her eyes were smoky with whatever kind of makeup magic she'd worked. She looked gorgeous. Of course.

She interlaced her fingers with his as they waited on the front step after ringing the doorbell. This was normal, the hand-holding. Part of their façade. She kept her hand in his as they walked inside and he noticed the envious looks other men gave him as they checked her out. "Dime piece," one of the guys had called her. "Smoke show," said another.

And she was his. Well, not really his, but their audience didn't know that. For all intents and purposes here, they were together. They were just another couple in love at a party. This was all such a mindfuck. It was part of the job, of course, but knowing that didn't make the intermingling of real and pretend any less confusing. The logic of the brain was one thing. The biological urges of the body were something else entirely.

The party was boozy and they couldn't avoid drinking. That was another funny thing they'd had to figure out with this job. How to drink enough to keep up appearances without getting so intoxicated that they lost control of the situation. Nick nursed his rye and Cokes as slowly as he could without arousing suspicion, but by midnight he'd had at least four and he was feeling it.

Andy had been drinking white wine with the ladies, and he knew she was feeling it too from the timbre of her laughter as it floated across the room. It was a sound he hadn't heard in months, since before they'd gone on this job, back when they'd just been friends having drinks at the Penny. Before they were friends pretending to be lovers in the field.

The sound of her laughing grabbed him somewhere around his heart and he found himself walking across the room to her, needing to be closer to her.

"Hey baby," she said as he approached, her eyes shining.

"Hey," he said, reaching to slide his fingers along her upper arm. He just wanted to touch her.

"Do you want to dance?" she asked.

His eyes roamed down her body and back up again. If she could eye-fuck him, he could do the same to her if he wanted, right?

"Of course," he said, his voice husky.

She waved to the other girlfriends and slipped her hand into his, pulling him out onto the patio by the pool where people danced beneath a canopy of twinkling lights and, above that, the stars in the sky.

"How are you doing?" he asked as her arms slid up around his neck.

"Good," she said. "Feeling the wine, but good."

His arms moved around to the small of her back and he pulled her close as the music slowed. They'd held each other close before, of course, when they were putting on their show for everyone, and he had to remind himself that this was part of the show too.

They swayed to the music and her head came down to rest on his shoulder. Before he knew what he was doing, his lips softly touched the top of her hair, and he felt her sigh in response. Her head came up and she looked into his eyes and then at his mouth.

"Nick," she whispered.

"Andy," he whispered back, the teasing tone in his voice a standard part of their repartee.

"You should kiss me," she said.

"Ok," he responded, and lowered his lips to hers. Another part of the show.

Except it wasn't. His lips met hers and the sparks flew. Maybe it was the drinks, the music, the stars overhead, but this was different.

Her tongue slid tentatively along the crease of his lips and he opened his mouth to her, and it was on. Their bodies molded together, pulling one another closer as their tongues danced. She kept asking for more, and he kept giving, and suddenly she moaned and Nick felt it reverberate throughout his body.

That brought him back to reality. He was turned on and it was becoming really evident by the tightness in his pants, and she was going to figure that out soon if he didn't put some space between them. He'd been turned on by her before—it was impossible not to be when they were acting like a couple who couldn't get enough of each other—but he'd kept himself in control so she wouldn't notice.

The look in her eyes as he pulled away was one he'd never seen before. A look of longing that was different from the sexy gazes she sent his way when they were in front of everyone. _Where are you going?_ she seemed to be asking.

Nick saw the door to the pool house and was opening it before he had a chance to think through his actions, pulling her behind him into the darkness. The door shut and she leaned against it.

"What was that?" he asked before he could control himself. It was better not to question the strangeness of their situation, he knew, but he couldn't help it. Maybe it was the drinks, maybe it was the pent-up sexual frustration that came with months and months of acting like lovers, probably it was a combination of both.

"I don't know," she said softly. "Why did you push me away?"

He hadn't expected that. "Because, Andy, when you do that, when _we_ do that… I'm just a guy, okay? And you're a beautiful woman, and even though we're just faking this, I still…my body still responds in, uh, the way a man reacts to a beautiful woman. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

She looked up then, finding his eyes in the darkness. "I feel it too," she said.

"What?"

"I…respond too, okay?"

He held his breath for a moment, unsure of what to do next, and then he decided to just say _fuck it. _Fuck all of this faking for the job. He needed to know what she felt like when they weren't pretending, and he went to her, his lips crashing down on hers.

She moaned into him again as she met his kiss and this time he didn't move away. This time he pulled her closer as their tongues began to dance once again, and he knew by the way she reached her arms around his back and pulled him into her that she felt how turned on he was. She knew. She knew and she wasn't breaking things off.

The intensity between them ratcheted up as they met each other kiss for kiss, getting hungrier as they went, throwing away the pretense. He kissed her like he'd wanted to for months, trying to show her just how much _he_, Nick, wanted _her_, Andy, and not just how much the characters they were playing were supposed to want each other.

His hands reached down to cup her ass and he felt her smile against his mouth. He read her body language and lifted, her legs coming up around his waist and he held her in his arms then, twined around him. He backed away from the door, holding her, until he made it to the couch he had barely registered when they first entered the pool house.

He lowered himself down and she unlocked her legs from around him and kicked off her shoes. She perched over him, her strong thighs on either side of his legs. His hands felt the fabric of her dress where it had ridden up to the tops of her legs. She was wearing a thong he realized as his hands grazed her bare ass, and gave a silent prayer of thanks to the heavens.

She broke the kiss and looked down at him, her hands braced on his chest. "Do you want me?" she asked, her voice husky.

He nodded and she was kissing him again, and he felt her hips move over him, seeking contact. His hand slid around her thigh and he touched her through her underwear, feeling the evidence of her arousal as he gave her the pressure against her core that she craved. He rubbed through the fabric and she broke the kiss again, this time to let her head fall back in pleasure at his touch.

His free hand reached into her hair and pulled at the pins until it fell down around her shoulders. He put his mouth on her neck, tasting his way down the column of her throat as she pressed her wetness into the heel of his palm. The skin of her neck tasted as salty and delicious as he'd imagined it would. Her hand found his and pulled it away and then she was pressing her heat directly against his rock-hard cock, crying out as they made contact, his hips rising involuntarily to thrust up and meet her.

She reached her other hand down and fumbled with his belt buckle. His hands twisted into the fabric of her thong and with a yank he had ripped the scrap of lace at her hip until it slid down her leg, giving him free access to her. His fingers teased her wet folds and then he found the nub at the center of her and brushed it with his thumb.

"Oh god," she moaned as he touched her there. She tugged down his fly and rose onto her knees to pull at his pants until they were low enough that she could get her hands inside his boxer briefs, her hands finally finding the prize she sought. She wrapped her fingers around his thick length and gave him a squeeze.

"Fuck," he cried out involuntarily, and she began to stroke him, her finger running over the tip of his cock, spreading the wetness she found there over his hot, tight skin. His fingers continued to slide over her, circling her clit. He wanted to taste her, to explore her. But she was already so hot and wet and ready for more.

"Ok," she said breathlessly, and before he could flip her onto her back like he wanted, to properly give her the pleasure he intended, she held the tip of his cock to her entrance and impaled herself on him.

They cried out together in shock at the feeling and their eyes met, incredulous. He was inside her, buried to the hilt, and nothing had ever felt so right. His hands moved up her body to cup her breasts and he pulled at the neckline of her dress until they spilled out from both the dress and her bra and he could take her erect nipple into his mouth, suckling her as she began to move over him, sliding her wet heat up and down his cock. She tilted her head back and rode him, his mouth latched onto one breast and then the other, his hands sliding down to guide her hips as his own thrust up to meet hers.

He let her set the pace, knowing she was finding exactly which angle gave her the most pleasure as she undulated over him, and he watched her gorgeous face as she closed her eyes, her swollen lips parted on a sigh, her skin taking on a new flush. He gripped her thighs and soon she was grinding down harder, her brow creased in a determined way, and she began to quiver.

"Oh god," she cried out. "Oh god, oh god, I'm gonna come, Nick, oh god…"

"Come on baby," he said as he felt her walls begin to tighten around him, and suddenly she was screaming and her muscles contracted. He thrust up into her, relishing the feel of her coming all over him, and he knew it wasn't going to be much longer until he followed.

He flipped her over onto her back as she came, her legs managing to lock around his hips as pounded into her, thrusting as hard as he wanted, with all the want and need that had been building up inside him for months. The sounds of skin against skin echoed as his balls slapped against her and he felt himself swelling until he couldn't take it anymore, and he was exploding inside her.

"Oh, Andy, Andy," he groaned as he spilled his seed into her tight, hot cunt before collapsing on top of her.

Their hearts beat chaotically as they came down from their high, and Nick managed to shift his weight off to the side while keeping her in his arms. He didn't want to leave her body just yet, but they slipped apart naturally as they changed positions and he knew things were about to crash back down to reality.

Andy pulled back slowly and then stood up shakily, her tits pushed up and out of the dress that was bunched up around her waist, his semen running down her thighs. He'd never seen anything so hot in his life.

She was reaching for something and he realized it was the scrap of lace that used to be her thong.

"I'll buy you a new one," he said.

She was trying to use the lace to clean herself up a bit, but it wasn't helping much.

"We should probably get back out there," she said.

Nick stood and pulled up his pants. "Andy," he started to say, but she cut him off.

"Let's just not talk about it, ok?" she said as she tucked her breasts back into her bra and pulled her dress back into place.

Nick felt something inside him deflate a bit at her words, but he didn't want to think about it what it meant. "Andy, before we go… we didn't use a condom."

"I'm on the pill," she said, turning towards the door. "You know that. We share a bathroom. You've seen them."

He had seen them, but still. "Andy, this isn't something we can just brush off."

"Why not?" she said, refusing to meet his eyes. "We've been in a really stressful situation for six months. We both needed to get off, and we did. Let's just leave it."

He reached out to touch her face, tilting it until she had to look at him. "Andy…" he said, but he didn't know what to say. Her eyes pleaded, but he wasn't sure what for.

She pulled the door open and they emerged back into the chaos of the party. A few people wolf-whistled at them, suspecting what they'd been up to in the pool house.

Regardless of how confusing their actions now made their personal situation, it made their story more believable. And the story was what mattered. At the end of the day this was all about the job.

* * *

It was supposed to end. She acted like nothing had happened and he followed suit, because he was too mixed up inside to know how to even begin unpacking the complexity of the situation. A few days after the party they ended up in an old warehouse, with Nick pointing a gun at her head, expected to prove himself to his cronies. He knew it wasn't loaded, but she was furious with him nonetheless, screaming at him once they'd gotten somewhere relatively safe.

He grasped her hand in his as they prepared to fight their way out. _I don't want to go to bed angry_, she'd said, echoing a joke from their months together in the tiny apartment.

He was ready to throw himself in front of her, to take whatever it was outside that door, when they heard Swarek's voice, and he knew it was really over. The door went up and there was Sam, staring at Andy, and Andy staring right back, smiling with relief.

_Back to reality_, Nick thought. Back to this shit all over again. Swarek had done a number on her, he knew, and he couldn't help but feel relieved when they didn't jump into each other's arms.

He found his reality too, back at the station, when Gail clocked him and then jumped him, kissing him with fervor. He kissed her back. She was angry with him, but she still seemed to want him. He wasn't playing a part anymore. His normal life was back for the taking if he wanted it.

And so they all went back to normal, or as normal as they could be after half a year away. Half a year of boredom and confusion that had ended in madness. There was nowhere to go but forward.

That is, if he could ever shake the sound of Andy crying out his name, the taste of her skin, the feel of her body around him, beneath him.

He locked it away inside himself, knowing that it didn't have a place here, back where things were normal.

It had to be over. It couldn't be any other way.

* * *

_fin_


End file.
